


The Season of Giving

by TyrantTirade



Series: Holiday Meet-Cute's! [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A ridiculous amount of giving, Cheesy, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Embarrassment, Engagement, Explicit Language, Fluff, Frustration, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Schmoop, Steve and Bucky are both just great guys okay, Texting, clumsy steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrantTirade/pseuds/TyrantTirade
Summary: Two hours after he has finally gotten home he lies in bed and thinks about Steve, He thinks about every particle that makes up his existence and the genetics that create his perfection. He wonders what Steve does and who Steve is and for the first time in his life he thinks maybe love at first sight really is a thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not the most celebratory person when it comes to holiday's, I just don't really care about them. However, I've spent the past day and a half writing this for no reason at all. This isn't so much about Christmas as it is about just being generous during the holiday's. Maybe this will inspire A little giving in turn. 
> 
> **Warnings:** Heed the language tag, This is generally very mild but I curse like a sailor so just keep that in mind. There's some minor explosive talk, some comparison of loud noise to bombs/nukes which could possibly be triggering to some people. It's very mild but just be aware of that in case you're sensitive to that or whatever. 
> 
>  
> 
> I wish you all Happy Holiday's, A Merry Christmas, A Happy Kwanzaa, A Happy Hanukkah, or just A wonderful Sunday!
> 
> Take this fluffy crap as my gift to you!

**December 17th**

 

Bucky hates the subway more than anything. It's crowded, it's freezing cold, and It smells like the underside of a public restroom toilet seat. 

But if there's anything worse than those things, that would be driving in New York traffic.  _ Fuck. Driving. In. New. York. Traffic. _

Although awful, public transit is actually the best form of transportation in New York.  _ But, ya know, it sucks to suck right? _

 

—

He leans against A white tiled column, keeping his eyes locked on his phone just so he can have a distraction from the little boy that has been repeatedly bumping into him for the past half hour. The mom obviously too focused on her own phone to make the little shithead cut it out. He folds in on himself to keep warm and hopes like hell that time will pass quick enough so he can get home and sleep. 

He really can’t wait for his Christmas break, three days off for the holiday to do absolutely nothing at all. 

He sighs audibly with the realization that he still has to endure another week getting around through the crowded subway. 

_ Oh, Has he ever said that he hates the motherfucking subway? _

 

—

Finally the train pulls into the station with an obnoxious screech, tracks grinding and skidding, metal on metal until the car has come to A stop at the platform. As if on instinct, like ducks or some shit, everyone flocks towards the still-closed doors but Bucky stays planted where he’s at. He would rather shuffle in last and have to stand than be one of those assholes that takes a seat from someone that actually needs it.

Generally, with his work hours he doesn’t have to deal with as much trouble to get home but the holiday season has this real special way of ruining everything. People are everywhere, tourists and visitors needing to get around, families to visit and gifts to buy in the city, all that shit. He’s well aware that he can't be angry over it because they need a mode of transportation just like he does but it's a real pain in the ass to deal with some days.

 

—

The doors open and the other soon to be passengers migrate into them, pushing and shoving like their lives are on the line. It’s borderline pathetic to watch everyone fight for a spot. Bucky keeps his back against the pillar and forces down laughter that’s bubbling up at the dumb shits in their suits with their briefcases and the bowtie wearing interns dragging past each other and glaring with death-threat looks from someone so much as rubbing against them.

As the last few groups funnel in Bucky stands up from his little perch and paces leisurely towards the train doors. He takes his time stepping so the other passengers can settle into place, he’s become pretty well acquainted with the whole system by now enough to know when to do what so he takes his time to avoid unnecessary arguments with bitchy bystanders.

 

—

He’s just a few feet from the train, boots dragging him along tiredly when A loud slam ricochets off of the tiled floor behind him. The painful sound clatters like a grenade lobbing his way and blasting apart into the concrete behind him. It successfully gets him jumping back, out of his skin like A little fucking pansy, shell-shocked and terrified.

He yanks his head back quick enough for whiplash, irrationally fearing that its a fucking nuke going off underground or something. Bucky”s always been sorta unrealistic like that. He’s already imagining nuclear fallout.

 

—

Instead of an apocalypse, he’s met by a big, muscular blond and a horrific pile of glued together newspaper chunks scattered throughout the station floor. 

The pieces of newspaper, (clearly some fucked up paper mache sculpture that’s been dropped or possibly exploded) are strung about, wet globs of glue are slopped out onto the tiles, and somehow some pieces have quite literally blasted into dust. 

The blond’s hands are clutched into his hair like he’s about to just rip it out. He’s mouthing out ‘fuck’ repeatedly and stomping his big converse clad feet around like he has no idea what to do. 

Bucky easily notices that the guy has turned A very bright shade of red. Although Bucky’s feeling severe secondhand embarrassment for the guy, he can't help but notice that it’s kinda really fucking cute. 

Really, really fucking cute. 

 

—

Bucky considers that if he doesn't jump on the train right this second it will leave without him. It’s not that he’s in any hurry, he just wants to get home and he’s not sure how okay he is with standing in the abysmal hell of A station for another hour.

But god, what kind of asshole would he be if he carried on selfishly right after watching this guy majorly fuck up? The poor guy is bright red from embarrassment and he's clearly flustered and in need of help while all of the other inconsiderate bastards standing on the platform, stare at him like he’s got two goddamn heads.

Bucky heaves out a sigh and crosses fingers in hopes that the blond is grateful for Bucky’s help and doesn't bitch him out for no reason at all. He pivots on his feet, turning away from the soon departing train and begins striding towards the big paper mess. 

 

—

Without saying anything Bucky drops to his knees and starts scooping up the fragments into a more organized pile, trying not to think about how disgusting the subway floors are under his fingertips. 

“I’m so sorry man, fuck, thank you, I- you don't need to help, I've got it,” The guy stutters out, his voice is deep and soft yet so very sincere and it’s maybe even a little refreshing to Bucky’s stressed out brain. It seems to be soothing, and commanding yet innocent all wrapped up into one. It’s definitely the prettiest voice that Bucky has heard and quite possibly the prettiest guy too. He’s maybe already a little smitten.

Bucky bobs his head up and smiles tenderly at the guy, admonishing, “Nah man, it’s cool” He keeps picking up pieces with one hand and waving the guy off with the other like it’s no big deal. 

The look that he gets from the guy in response is pretty enough to make his stomach twist up. The blond’s smile is crooked and thin yet warm and bright. He nods and drops to his knees as well, helping Bucky pick up the mess. Bucky can barely hear it but the blond says “Thank you so much” and it’s spoken so humbly that it makes Bucky feel a little warmed up inside his ribcage.

Like maybe getting home a little late just so he can make this guy smile will be worth it after all

 

—

Thankfully the blond has a trash bag to throw the pieces in. 

“Ironically, the trash bags original purpose was to protect the thing,” he says followed by a warm chuckle. The whole circumstance makes the both of them break out into a fit of hysterical giggles. 

 

—

When they finally have it all picked up (the big pieces at least) Bucky stands, knees popping as he dusts off his pantlegs. The paper dust fragments scuffing up his shoes, pants, and even his coat. 

The blond quickly ties the red trash bag drawstrings into a knot and tosses it on the ground with his other bags, A backpack, A guitar case, and a big portfolio box. It’s no wonder he dropped the damn thing going down the stairs. The guy is big and burly, not necessarily huge but obviously built up and strong, All lean muscle and towering height but even A big guy like him couldn’t carry all that shit at once realistically. 

  
  


—

Before Bucky can catch on, the blond is tossing his palm out and introducing himself with an even brighter smile than before, it’s like the thing fills up the whole station.  _ God, he’s pretty. _

“Name’s Steve” he says with confidence. 

Bucky grasps the big palm and gives it a shake, calloused fingers rubbing against the skin of Bucky’s own palm, warm and rough, he almost doesn't want to let it go. He keeps hold for a moment, taking in the warmth as he responds, “Bucky” as casually as he can manage.

Steve blushes a little just from the introduction, for a second Bucky didn't think that the guy could get any cuter until he realized that Steve’s damn blush even fills his ears up in stupid pink warmth. His eyes blue and soft with shifting pupils and long eyelashes. 

 

—

Instead of looking like an idiot Bucky breaks the handshake and distracts his hands by fucking with his hair, brushing it through his nape-length strands so that he doesn't accidentally start creepily touching Steve's face or some equally weird shit,  _ because, gosh, he just really wants to touch it. _

Steve smiles up again, sugar sweet and endearing as hell “It’s nice to meet you”

 

—

Another train approaches the station with that usual annoying sound of breaks scuffing and in response they both jerk around. Steve sighs and a little frustrated look pops up on his features. 

Bucky’s chest hurts a little with the realization that that must be Steve's train

“So, um, Thank you, seriously, for the help, I really appreciate it.” Steve says, His arms work to grab his bags clumsily, trash bag included. He keeps looking around like he’s lost again. “But that's my train, so, um, I’ll see you around, thanks again.” He continues, looking slightly saddened as he begins taking small steps away backwards.

If Steve is sad that their meeting is being cut short, then fuck, Bucky’s heartbroken. His mind stutters out something, anything to try to keep Steve there but Bucky isn't an idiot and he knows all that ‘good things end’ bullshit so he wills down the ache in his chest and he forces out “No problem, Have a nice night.” like he’s not devastated. His hands are stuffed in his pockets so he doesn't accidentally yank Steve back to him.

Steve offers up a smile and then quickly treads up to his train. He looks back like he has something to say but quickly turns back around until eventually he's just disappeared into the train car.

Bucky lets out a held back sigh and continues back to his pillar. He isn’t sure why but he feels almost like he just watched his entire life walk out on him. 

_ Don’t be such a drama queen Barnes,  _ he mentally chastises, pushing back his constant thoughts about Steve and his perfect blue eyes. 

 

—

Two hours after he's finally gotten home he lies in bed and thinks about Steve, He thinks about every particle that makes up his existence and the genetics that create his perfection. He wonders what Steve does and who Steve is and for the first time in his life he thinks maybe love at first sight really is a thing. 

 

—

**December 24th**

 

As always, Bucky is A little late present shopping. He has A list crumpled up in his pocket with his planned gifts and he has a surprisingly high level of energy so it’s not like it will be so bad but he’s still A little frustrated with his procrastination. He really needs to work on the procrastination, considering that it’s already nine on christmas eve and he still hasn’t bought anyone A gift yet. 

Not everyone is cut out for adulthood.

 

—

It seems like most of the stores are borderline sold out of literally everything. He’s left to essentially scavenge for suitable gifts. 

 

—

He leaves just A few minutes shy of closing time, bags hooked around the crook of his arm, filled with bullshit items that he hopes will be at least halfway decent.

He shoves open one of the big mall doors with a heavy, glove-handed push and almost instantly A gust of ice chilled air slaps across his face like A fucking brick. The temperature is fourteen and dropping. His goal obviously, quickly becomes, ‘ _ Get the fuck home asap’ _

 

_ — _

Thankfully there's an inservice subway just A block or so away. 

He treads the slick iced pavement as fast as he can manage. Leaving the warmth of the mall behind in hopes that that station might be warm for once.

Just around the corner he notices A Salvation Army bucket attendant. A big, tall guy bundled up in coats and scarves like A big baby in a snowstorm. The poor guy must be freezing but he rings the bell insistently and keeps planted by his bucket. 

Bucky tries his best to be giving. He’s not exactly the most humble guy around but he tries so he digs his wallet out of his pocket, fishing out a few random stray bills and rolling them up so he can drop them in quickly and keep on walking.

 

—

He tries to avoid the attendant as he drops them in, lazily wedging the bills in as hastily as possible, failing and awkwardly cramming them in much slower than intended. 

By the time he gets them in he’s frustrated and ready to get out of the damn cold. His skin feel cold and numb and he’s cranky as hell. 

Suddenly the attendant turns on their feet. The little bell rings with the movement and A slash of wind sweeps between them. 

Somehow bucky doesn't even notice the cold air gust though because right there, all pink and sniffly, bell in hand,  is Steve.  _ Fucking figures he would donate his time so selflessly like this.  _

 

_ — _

Steves voice breaks the silence, “Bucky?” he questions, voice curious and soft like he saw an angel or something.

So Bucky straightens his coat and responds “Steve?” like he’s seeing his long lost love for the first time in a decade.

They both smile a little too wide and Bucky fiddles in his pocket nervously. He didn’t quite realize how badly he wanted to see Steve again until he’s standing right there in the cold and dark in front of him and breathless by his presence. 

 

—

Steve speaks first “Thanks for that” he says like it's his job to do so but it also seems like an attempt to just speak to Bucky in general.

Bucky responds “oh it’s- it’s no big deal,” He shrugs and bundles a little tighter in his coat. Once again, wanting desperately to wrap around Steve's thick body like it's the only source of warmth left on the earth. 

“I’m really happy to see you again, I uh- I didn’t really get A chance to get your number or anything before I had to go,” Steve chuckles nervously. 

Buckys got butterflies so bad in his stomach that they hurt. He tries his best to not panic as he responds with “Oh,” like a dumbfounded idiot. “I would like that- I mean, to give you my number that is,” he adds, blushing more aggressively than even Steve is, which honestly seems to be a feat in itself. 

 

—

Just a few minutes later Bucky shivering and trying to get to the train station as quickly as possible but he’s never felt happier. His phone grasped tight in his fingers as he fills in the new contact information for Steve and sends the first text.

  
  


**Me**

**So what was that exploded mess that I had to help you clean up anyway?**

  
  


—

**December 25th**

 

His family Christmas goes better than expected. It turns out his gifts weren’t total shit after all. His mom quite literally cried at the little necklace he bought her. It was really wonderful to see his family all together and happy. Becca and her husband smile so proudly by watching Bucky rock his nephew to sleep.

 

—

The best part of his day though has to be during the night while everyone is settled into bed. Because there he is, eleven at night on his childhood bed talking over the phone with Steve like a crushing teenager, fiddling with his hair and blushing at everything that the boy has to say to him. 

 

—

“I still can’t believe that cluserfuck was originally a paper mache sculpture of Santa Claus” Bucky chastises between laughter.

“It was, it really was,” Steve chuckles in return. 

They chat like they’ve known each other forever, Bucky’s never felt more comfortable talking with anyone in his life.

 

—

**December 17th, - Two year later**

 

The subway station is crowded as always, this winter is a little warmer than the last few but Bucky still huddles up against the wall to keep warm and secluded. Suddenly his phone chimes and it shows A received message,

  
  


**Steve**

**You at the transit still?**

  
  


Quickly he responds

  
  


**Me**

**Yep, why?**

  
  


—

A few minutes later Steve hasn't responded but Bucky’s startled by a loud slam near the stairs. He jerks his head over, mentally replaying the events from two years ago in his head. 

To his surprise, there that big, tall, blonde is again. This time, instead of a destroyed sculpture, it's just shopping bags knocked over and spilt out. Steve’s not even bothered though. His eyes just glare at Bucky, smile half-cocked and pretty as always like he’s just waiting for Bucky to come over.

Bucky chuckles at his dumb boyfriend and his legs take him over to help the poor guy. Just like before he drops down and starts scooping items back into their respective bags, ignoring the dirty floor while Steve stares down at him. 

When the items have all been cleared he hoists himself back onto his feet, dusting the knees of his pants. 

But unlike last time, instead of a handshake and an introduction, Steve does the opposite of what Bucky does. He drops down as if he’s going to help clean up the non-existent mess right as Bucky’s planted on his feet. 

His head slowly tilts up to Bucky, eyes blue and soft and beautiful. Bucky still gets butterflies in his belly just by looking at those things.

Steve smirks and starts digging through his pockets. Quickly pulling out a little velvet box and squeezing it in his palm. 

Bucky doesn't know what to think but he has an idea and it feels like his jaw has come unhinged. The butterflies turning into full on, stomach clenching bluebirds flapping around in his sternum.

With his free hand Steve grabs Bucky's shaking palm and holds it real tight. 

“Name’s Steve” He says, just like he did in the same spot when they met.

So Bucky plays along and responds just like before with “Bucky,” it’s breathless and his heart is beating so hard that he can hear it in his eardrums but he tries his best. 

Steve’s blushing pink as always and his palm’s shaking too but his voice stays level and confident, “So do you maybe want to marry me?” He asks. 

Bucky really never thought that he would deserve something like this just for helping some random guy, But he responds with “yes” anyway. His chest hurts and he wants to kiss Steve more than anything. Missing his train and getting home an hour late just to help this clutzy blond pick up a broken sculpture was the absolute greatest decision of his life.

His throat hurts from the urge to sob,  _ God, he loves Steve so much,  _ “Absolutely, yes”

**Author's Note:**

> -My spouse actually insisted that I name this "A big Paper Mache Santa Claus" but I didn't, This is me letting you know that he's lame and i'm lame also.
> 
> -I'm non-spiritual so this is about as Christmas-y as it gets for me, I rewrote the Salvation Army donation bucket thing in different variations like 4 times until A few days ago I came up with this and I actually really liked it, hopefully you did as well!
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Here's my **[Tumblr!](http://www.Tyranttirade.tumblr.com)**


End file.
